


Choke Yourself To Sleep

by fakesmichael (ColoredGayngels)



Series: 100 Kinks [33]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Sex, Bottom Michael, Choking, Fainting, Fake AH Crew, Lingerie, M/M, Making Out, Near Death Experiences, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Suicidal Thoughts, top Geoff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23106256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColoredGayngels/pseuds/fakesmichael
Summary: He isn’t fucking Michael - he’s making love.Michael wants to fucking gag.
Relationships: Michael Jones/Geoff Ramsey
Series: 100 Kinks [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1077513
Kudos: 39
Collections: Prose From the Abyss





	Choke Yourself To Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> 060\. Breathplay  
> Title from Choke by I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME  
> [100 Kinks Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/coloredgayngels/playlist/0r286gee0z77JnI4RHajr1?si=Cr3NZxWMQ3CjR4goMv2IjA)
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING  
> Michael makes Geoff choke him to the point of near-death during sex.

For a city as rampant with crime as Los Santos, Michael is having a really hard time finding someone to engage in criminal activity with. It’s peak hours, and his corner is dead empty. He’s pretty sure the girls a block over have all gotten johns by now, but here’s Michael, alone, in the rain, his clothes starting to stick to his skin and hair matting to his forehead. Honestly, he’s pretty over this whole ordeal. He’s cold and wet and doesn’t even have jack shit to go home to, and like hell is he sleeping in the fucking squat anymore. He’s sick of being homeless, being hungry, being stuck out on the streets. 

He’s this close to giving up and going to spend his last seven dollars at the twenty-four-hour diner a few streets away when a sleek black car pulls up to his stop sign. Michael’s on it before it has a chance to pull forward, knocking on the window and leaning against the door as it rolls down. “Hey, mister, you in need of some company to-” Michael’s jaw drops open when he finally looks at the driver. “Geoff _fucking_ Ramsey?” he says in shock. 

Ramsey rolls his eyes. “Keep quiet and get in the car, kid.” Michael opens the door when the lock pops, climbing into the passenger seat. “You said something about keeping me company?”

Michael grins. He reaches over to rub Ramsey’s thigh, fingers trailing up towards the man’s dick. “Two hundred and I’m yours the whole night,” he says, palming Ramsey’s crotch. “Whaddya say?”

Ramsey takes Michael’s hand and for a moment, Michael thinks he might break it. He’s heard the legends about the Fakes, seen the news. Ramsey is the most dangerous man in the city, and Michael’s in his car. 

Instead of crushing Michael’s bones, Ramsey simply brings his hand up and kisses his knuckles before placing Michael’s hand back in his own lap. “I say if you’re good on the drive over to my place, I’ll take real good care of you.” 

It’s not a long drive, maybe five minutes tops, but it’s enough to warm Michael up, dry out his curls. Ramsey pulls into a garage at the base of a building Michael would never be able to afford in a thousand years. He gets out of the car, lets Ramsey guide him with a hand at the small of his back toward the elevator. His other hand dips into his pocket, and Michael wonders if this is it, if he’s going to pull out a pistol and take Michael out. However, he takes out a keycard, sliding it into the slot beside the elevator. 

Ramsey rubs Michael’s back as the elevator starts its ascent. Michael leans into it, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the Kingpin of Los Santos. Despite it being his job, he’s afraid to start anything with the command radiating off of Ramsey. The hand on Michael’s back slides up to rest on the back of his neck and he stiffens. He waits for the hand that grabs his chin to snap his neck, but Ramsey simply turns his head to capture Michael in a kiss. Michael curls his fingers in the lapels of Ramsey’s jacket, pulling the man closer as his tongue dips into Michael’s mouth. 

Ramsey tastes faintly of whiskey, probably on his way home from one of his bars when he picked Michael up. Michael licks into Ramsey’s mouth, savoring the alcohol he hasn’t been able to have since he went broke. Ramsey squeezes the back of Michael’s neck, fingers tangling into the ends of his hair, and sucks Michael’s bottom lip into his mouth, biting down. Michael lets out a soft moan just as the elevator dings, and Ramsey breaks the kiss and takes a step back.

It stops at the penthouse, of course, emptying the pair into a lavish yet comfortable looking living area. Michael doesn’t even have time to take it in before those lips are back on his, that tongue is back in his mouth, his back against the wall, hands groping their way up underneath his hoodie and shirt. There’s a gasp from Ramsey as his fingertips find the edge of the lacy bralette Michael’s wearing, then a matching gasp from Michael as said fingertips brush across his nipples over the lace.

“You all dressed up and pretty for me under these clothes, doll?” Ramsey asks, pinching a nipple. Michael moans and nods, trying to grind against Ramsey’s thigh. 

“Yes, sir.” Michael looks up with pleading eyes. “Take me to bed?” He phrases it as a question, keeping himself demure so he doesn’t seem like the bossy little twink he is.

Ramsey wastes no time pulling his hands out of Michael’s shirt so he can grab his ass and hoist him up. Michael lets out a little yelp, wrapping his arms around Ramsey’s neck and holding on for dear life as he’s carried to the bedroom. 

He lands on the bed with a bounce and sits up so he can pull off his hoodie and shirt in one go. Ramsey is on him in an instant, palming Michael’s lace-clad chest and crashing their lips back together. The kiss is slow and dominating, soaking into every fiber of Michael’s being. Ramsey’s tongue takes its time exploring his mouth again, this time licking along his teeth. He continues to play with Michael’s nipples, pinching them every so often and drawing little sounds from Michael’s throat. Michael lets himself melt into the touch, arching his back to push his chest into the calloused hands. Eventually, Ramsey breaks the kiss and slides down Michael’s torso, kissing and sucking little marks into his skin down his neck and across his collar bone.

He stops to suck on Michael’s nipple, wetting the lace before giving similar treatment to the other and moving down to the hem, down Michael’s stomach, down, down, down to the top of Michael’s jeans. Ramsey undoes his fly with practiced ease, revealing another piece of lace underneath. Ramsey treats Michael’s cock the same as his nipples, laving his tongue over it through the lace until Michael is a writhing mess. Michael lifts his hips so Ramsey can pull down his jeans and the man complies, gasping when he notices that Michael’s underwear is a thong. There’s a brief struggle with Michael’s shoes and socks before his jeans are yanked off and disappear somewhere behind Ramsey. 

Ramsey slowly pulls Michael’s underwear down to rest under his balls, Michael’s cock bouncing up against his stomach. He yelps when Ramsey’s mouth closes around the head and sucks, tongue swirling around. Michael has to fight not to bury his hands in Ramsey’s hair and push his head down, has to remind himself that Ramsey is in charge, that Ramsey, _Geoff fucking Ramsey_ is the one sucking his cock and could kill him in an instant.

For being a notorious criminal overlord, Ramsey sucks cock like a fucking expert. It makes Michael wonder what the Fakes get up to in their spare time, but he doesn’t wonder for long when Ramsey does something with his tongue that has Michael bucking up into his mouth. Ramsey chokes, splutters a little as he pulls off. A hand wraps around Michael’s cock and squeezes, hard enough to hurt, and Michael is afraid that Ramsey might actually rip his dick off.

Ramsey looks Michael in the eye, and it’s the first time the man has seemed dangerous, a dark look in his eyes. “Watch yourself, kid,” he says lowly. “You might be getting paid, but you’re gonna do what I want.” 

Michael swallows hard. “Y-yes, sir.”

Like flipping a switch, Ramsey’s face lights up again. “Good. Now, I wanna get into that sweet ass of yours.” He pushes Michael’s thighs up toward his chest and licks a stripe over Michael’s hole. He moans, it’s been a while since he’s been eaten out, and melts into the sensation. He lets himself relax so Ramsey can ease his tongue inside, easing a finger in alongside it. It feels good, not having to perform tonight. Despite being on edge, he’s ready to just lay there and take it like a good boy, ready to let life do with him what it wants.

His eyes slip shut as he hears the click of lube, feels the slick slide of two fingers entering him and stretching him open. Small sounds flow freely from Michael, getting louder as Ramsey gets closer to his prostate. Michael’s nerves light on fire when he finds it, teasing the spot gently before digging in. He arches his back, pushing himself onto the fingers with only a little restraint. Ramsey chuckles, pulling out his fingers and wiping them on Michael’s thigh. 

Michael looks up at the man, watches as he undoes his belt and fly and pulls out his cock. “You ready for me, baby?” he asks, stroking himself. Michael nods, he’s ready, so ready, just wants to get fucked.

Ramsey pushes in gently, rocking his hips slowly and working his way into Michael. It’s good, different from the other johns who just take what they want with little care for Michael himself, just another hole for them to fuck. Ramsey, on the other hand, is treating him like glass. He isn’t fucking Michael - he’s making love.

Michael wants to fucking gag. He doesn’t want this. He wants it rough, wants to forget about his shitty life for a little while in the form of a good orgasm or two. He doesn’t deserve Geoff Ramsey of all people being _nice_ to him. There are so many ways the man could have killed him tonight, but instead, he’s been nothing but soft. Michael hates it.

He looks up at Ramsey, stroking the man’s arm as he rocks against Michael. “Will you fuck me harder, sir?” He bats his eyes. “Please? I want you to.”

Ramsey grins. “Of course, baby.”

The next thrust is hard and fast, setting a punishing pace and punching loud moans from Michael’s throat. It’s so good, better than the slow bullshit from before, but it’s still not enough. “P-please!” he cries, and he swears Ramsey starts moving faster. The zipper of his dress pants is rough against Michael’s ass when their hips meet, belt buckle clanging with each movement, and it’s hot as hell.

It still isn’t enough.

Michael scrabbles to grab one of Ramsey’s wrists, pulling it so his hand can wrap lightly around Michael’s throat. “Please?” he pleads, and Ramsey complies, pressing into Michael’s neck. Ramsey is strong, and Michael knows he can do better. He’s already struggling to breathe with the original grip, but Michael squeezes Ramsey’s hand harder, harder until Ramsey’s entire weight is pushing down onto him.

Ramsey’s thrusts find his prostate and Michael lets out a squeak through the choke-hold he’s in. Ramsey gives him a wicked grin, keeping that angle and pressing down harder on Michael’s windpipe. Michael can’t breathe, can’t think, his stomach is tight with impending orgasm, he’s close, he can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t breathe-

The world goes dark.

~~~

Michael comes to with a soft groan. The world is too bright around him. He blinks a few times, a blurry figure coming together in the shape of Ramsey hovering above him.

"Jesus, kid! You got some kind of death wish? You scared me half to death!"

Michael laughs, slightly delirious. "Maybe." His voice is hoarse. "Maybe not. Do you want me to, Mr. Ramsey? You could kill me, right here, right now, and nobody outside would know." He smiles bitterly. "Nobody outside would care, either."

“Nobody would- Fuck! I can’t have your life on my hands! You’re innocent, a civilian.” Ramsey runs a hand over his face, exasperated. “Fucking hell.” He walks over to the bedroom door. “Jack, he’s awake!” he calls before coming back to sit on the bed. 

“What on earth were you thinking?” Ramsey asks.

Michael sighs. “I was thinking that I didn’t want to think anymore.” Fuck, his throat hurts. He supposes that makes sense, what with having Ramsey’s whole weight on it. “I just-”

He’s interrupted by a woman briskly entering the room, a redhead wearing a garish combination of a Hawaiian shirt and striped shorts, carrying a steaming mug and a tablet. She shoves the mug into Michael’s hands. “Drink,” she orders, before dragging over the desk chair and sitting in it. “Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He takes a sip. It’s tea, something lemony with a hint of honey in it. He’s not gonna lie, soothing some of the pain. 

“What’s your name, honey?” she asks, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead and then checking his pulse. He rolls his eyes at the fussing.

“Michael. Michael Jones.”

“Well, Michael Jones, you’ve given us quite the scare.” She types something on her tablet. “Twenty-three years old, dropped out of high school, recently homeless, been walking the streets for about five years. Several juvenile charges for arson.” The woman smiles at him, eyes sparkling. 

Michael looks down into his mug, embarrassed. Sure, he’d set a few fires when he was a teenager, blown up a few fireworks in his backyard, maybe he’d set the neighbor’s house on fire not-so-accidentally when he found out how they were treating their cat, but surely that wasn’t enough to catch the attention of the Fakes.

“An arsonist, huh?” Ramsey asks. “We’ve needed a demolitions expert lately.”

Michael frowns. “You almost just killed me. I let you almost kill me.” Ramsey looks away from him. “Why would you want me on your crew. Pity? Regret?”

“No, I… We… It’s not… Jack?” Ramsey stumbles over his words, looking at the woman, Jack.

“Look, Michael,” she says, not looking up from her tablet. “You need help, we need your skills. You work for us, you get a place to stay and food to eat.” She smirks. “And maybe a bit more cash than fucking Geoff for two hundred dollars.”

Ramsey splutters, and Michael can’t help but laugh at him. “Didn’t even get to come, either,” Michael teases. Ramsey glares at him, but there’s no heat behind it.

“What do you say, Jones? You want in?” Jack asks, making eye contact with Michael.

Michael thinks of the possibilities. Getting to set things on fire, blow shit up, maybe even take out some of the johns that had done him dirty. It makes his heart soar.

“I’m in.”

**Author's Note:**

> drop a kudos!  
> drop a comment!  
> follow me on:  
> [my writing tumblr!](https://spriitepepsii.tumblr.com)  
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